It's funny the things I've chosen to love.
Like poetry and limes.  The sorrows
of young Werther and cheap red wine.

The memory of my father, which
I've built into a monument.  Ideas
about musicians I hope to meet.

And dreams, those abstract
and fleeting moments.  Springtime
in the desert, what's not to love

about that?  Everything
from heavenly weather to wearing
tank-tops and chunky sandals

while showing off bright red
toenails, tanned thighs.
The way Roethke describes longing-

a body with the motion of soul.

Lisa Zaran

If you've any comment on this poem, Lisa Zaran would be pleased to hear from you.